


I'll Handle It

by DragonGirl420



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 02:33:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18274022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonGirl420/pseuds/DragonGirl420
Summary: After working her way up the ranks in The Sanctuary, (Y/N) is tired and has had enough of one other Savior’s forward advances. When Negan gets wind of what’s happening, he gives her the opportunity to handle it.





	I'll Handle It

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This was written for @letsby ‘s 500 Freestyle challenge. My prompt was: “What’s bothering you.” The line is bolded in the fic. This was my first time really writing Negan, so please be gentle.

Getting stuck on clean-up duty wasn’t too bad unless you were doing it outside in the middle of a heatwave. Things around the Sanctuary were always hardest when the temperatures rose. If you were inside the factory, it was stuffy and warm with not nearly enough functioning windows to allow a breeze in. Outside, it might as well have been a sauna. Throw in the stench of the dead ones rotting on the fences, and it was almost impossible to stomach.

But you did. You had too. You learned early on how to handle your shit.

Being new there meant you had to work your way in; earn your keep. It was worth it for protection from the decaying world around you. Too many unlawful men and women roamed the world now, and you had plenty of that before the world went to shit; no need to continue the same patterns while also fighting for survival.

A couple months had gone by, and by doing everything they’d thrown at you, you were granted an upgrade in accommodations. You understood the hierarchy and worked hard to prove not only your worth but also your loyalty. The Sanctuary was ruled with an iron fist, all the highest tier people keeping a watchful eye over the day-to-day operations; while Negan watched over them. You kept your eyes down but ears open anytime they were within earshot, never knowing when you could pick up something useful.

The taller one, Simon and his friend Bart liked to talk shit behind Negan’s back. The minute the big boss was anywhere close, they would fall right back in line and kissing Negan’s ass. This went on for a couple more months and as you settled into a new life at the Sanctuary, your past traumas from time out in the wild were starting to fade.

Until it was brought back, thanks to that drunk piece of shit, Bart.

The hard work and understanding of your place in the pecking order, helped you move quickly up the ranks. It was those swift promotions that put you in direct contact with Bart Richmond, who answered directly to Simon. You were part of the canvassing crew, one of the groups that were treated well and with a good amount of respect when you walked the floors of the home base. You were out risking your life, looking for others to take in, new resources, supplies, other groups—whatever you could find really.

Coming back from an outing, it was late, and the rations had been low, so you were hungry and beyond tired. Before that run, Negan had Simon move you into one of the small apartments where you had your own bathroom, small television, and a kitchenette. For the last day or two of the trip, all you could think about was getting back to the Sanctuary and your little slice of Heaven there. As you were winding the halls back to your room, a looming shadow cut off the minuscule bit of light that guided you towards your room.

“Where ya goin’?” Bart asked casually. You couldn’t really see his eyes or his expression, but you could feel them on you which was not pleasant.

“Going home,” you mumbled and tried to move past him.

He blocked your path and grinned in a way that reminded you of the Grinch. “What’s the hurry?”

“I’m tired, Bart. Please move.”

“Aw, come now, sugar. You can’t be too tired for me?”

You looked at him incredulously and crossed your arms over your chest. “Move.”

“No,” he growled and took a step closer, ultimately pushing you to step back and hit the wall with no way to get around him. “I won’t. If you like that cushy little room you got and wanna keep it, you might wanna be polite and invite me back there…”

The closer he got, the more you could smell the booze on his breath. It was repulsive on him and mixed with the sweat from the day made him downright nauseating. The rank odor he wore reminded you of that night out on the road, weeks before landing at the Sanctuary. The men that found you sleeping in the hollowed-out tree had smelled similar; you could still feel their hands on you, holding you down and trying to rape you…

You shook the memory away and tried to maintain your composure but remain firm.

“What is your problem? I’m sure there are plenty of women here that would be thrilled to ask you back to their room. I, however, am not one of them. You wanna threaten me, Bart? Go ahead. I’d rather go back to cleaning rotted guts off the pavement then have you anywhere near me,” you growled and quickly ducked under the arm he had blocking your way.

Before you could get far, he spun and grabbed the top of your arm and squeezing hard enough to make you cry out. His other hand pressing against your stomach working its way towards your breasts.

He went to speak but was immediately cut off by a piercing whistle cutting through the halls. The ping of Negan’s bat, lightly bouncing off the metal railing that ran down the adjacent hallway wall caused Bart to stand up straight, immediately releasing your arm. Unfortunately for him, it wasn’t before Negan saw the forceful grip, he had on you.

“Well, hey there, Bart,” he purred, flashing his eyes your way, squinting slightly as he tried to remember your name.

“Negan,” he said and went to kneel, as did you.

“No, no, get up, it’s fine. I was just shuffling by, thought I heard a little scuffle. Some sort of shit I can help take care of here?”

“No sir,” Bart said, standing straight as he could despite his mild intoxication.

“Wasn’t fucking asking you,” Negan frowned, then met your eyes. “I was askin’ the lady, here. Everything alright…?” he trailed off, still uncertain of your name.

“(Y/N), and yes, everything’s fine. Bart was just saying goodnight,” you answered, the second part came through gritted teeth as you glared at him from the corner of your eye.

“Seems to me that maybe Bart was a little too rough with you, (Y/N). You sure there isn’t a problem?”

“No sir,” you reaffirmed.

“If there is, I want you to know you can come to me. Especially if Bart here is getting handsy. You know Lucille’s rule, Bart… if the lady says no, she says no. No forcing yourself on anyone while under my roof.”

“Y–Yes sir, I know the rule,” Bart’s eyes twitched towards Negan’s companion Lucille, the dim light once again reflecting off her barbed wire accents.

“If you’ll excuse me… it’s late and I’m exhausted,” you said, cutting through the tension. “Night Negan,” you smiled at him gratefully and then threw another piercing look to Bart

As quickly as you could, you moved passed him and into your room, promptly closing it and locking the door.

By the time you were safely locked away, your heart was pounding, and your hands had begun to shake. You only hoped Negan hadn’t noticed. He had no use for a nervous and jerky soldier on his front lines.

Bart didn’t bother you again for several weeks. Until that afternoon he cornered you in the garden, you thought he was purposely steering clear of you. Negan, however, had seemed to take an interest in your day to day activities. Ever since that night he inadvertently stopped Bart from coming after you, you felt his eyes on you more and more.

Normally that unnerved you. Even if it wasn’t Bart or Simon… anyone that looked too long or eyed you in a certain way made you uncomfortable. Trusting people in this world was almost impossible; not that you could do it more easily before. Your life had been a series of bad choices and bad relationships. Always trusting the wrong person, whether they be a friend, employer or lover, you’d find yourself on the bad end of it because you trusted the wrong person.

Yet, when Negan was around, you felt safe and confident in what you were doing. The man himself was quite the showman, always making big entrances, a grand show of his power over the people, and how generous he could be. It was grating at times, but in a world where everything else was in decay, there was something about his arrogance that was alluring.

That afternoon In the garden while gathering food for a two-day supply run, Bart once again tried to get you in his favor by being an overbearing prick. Grabbing your ass as he walked by was not new, but then taking you by the shoulder, spinning you around and pushing you forcefully into a corner was not something you were going to tolerate.

“So, you change your mind on me yet?” he hissed through his filthy teeth.

“Fuck off,” you growled and brought your knee up into his balls.

He fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes, giving a huge sense of satisfaction. Bart was on his side, knees were drawn up into his stomach and groaning with pain. You crossed your arms over your chest and was about to make a snide comment when he suddenly got up, and as he went to lunge at you, you were once again saved by Negan’s timing.

“Bart!” he yelled sharply from the doorway. Negan, Dwight and Simon stood in the entryway between the garden and the interior of the Sanctuary. All three wearing scowls of dissatisfaction. “What in fuck’s name is going on out here?”

“She kneed me in the balls!” he whined. “This bitch should be kicked back down to the fence crew!”

Negan rolled his eyes and then looked in your direction. “(Y/N), did you kick Bart here in the nuts?”

“I did. He grabbed my ass and pushed me into the corner. Not the first time he’s done it, either.”

Negan clicked his tongue several times as his expression oozed disappointment. “Seems Bart here needs a reminder of the rules. Simon, take him up to my office please so he and I can have another fucking conversation about fraternizing with his peers.”

“Yes sir,” Simon replied and grabbed Bart by his collar, yanking him inside.

Once they had left, Negan approached you carefully, but his gaze remained intense and curious as he tried to read you.

“How long as this shithead been giving you a hard time?”

“Its nothing I can’t handle,” you said stoically.

“Maybe. Maybe not,” he said, his mouth frowning and his head ticking back and forth in consideration. “I don’t want him to get away with anything. But as big of a dipshit asshole, as he is, he’s one of my best scouts. You see my dilemma here?”

“No need for any severe punishment, I can handle myself where Bart is concerned. What’s best for The Sanctuary comes first.”

Negan was more than a little amused by your answer. “Hot damn, I think we got ourselves a keeper! You know, I gotta say, I love it when you strong ass women pop up and take me by surprise. Too fucking bad your type is in short supply.”

His tongue ran over his bottom lip, as he studied you. “Tell you what. We’re going on a run tonight, two days… max–”

“Yes sir, I was out here gathering food for that when Bart approached.”

“Great. Because I want you with us. You ride with me. 10-4?”

“Yes sir,” you repeated, pushing your shoulders back and standing up a bit taller.

“Good. Be ready to go in an hour. Don’t wanna waste daylight.”

On the second night of the trip, the necessary supplies had been loaded up into one of the following vehicles, but since it had taken longer than planned, Negan opted to set up camp for one more night before starting the trek back home.

Part of the haul had been several crates of liquor, including bourbon, scotch, vodka, and tequila. He handed out a few and told the group to enjoy, but still stay alert to any of the dead that may be lingering around their camp.

A few hours into the night, you went with Arat to go to the bathroom. Traveling in pairs was mandatory, and having her with you made you feel more comfortable then it being one of the men. Before you headed back, a twig snapped from behind, causing both you and Arat to unsheath your knives and prepare to kill. Bart appeared from the thicket instead and Arat put hers away, but you hesitated.

“Sorry ladies, had to take a squirt and got lost comin’ back,” he slurred, clearly intoxicated. “Arat, go on back, I need to talk to (Y/N) here.”

Being her superior, she gave a hesitant nod and did as was asked. The second she was out view, Bart swiftly moved around and blocked your path back to camp. He grabbed your bare arm and squeezed tight enough that you feared he may snap it.

“You fucking little bitch… you got me in trouble with the boss again. What’s with you, huh? I should snap your fucking neck,” he growled, bearing his teeth and his toxic breath.

“Get off me,” you warned through gritted teeth and tried to pull away.

He tightened his grip, pulled you in and grabbed one of your breasts with his other hand.

“Just let me get a feel,” he breathed, churning your stomach as his hand twisted your flesh under his fingers. “At least make gettin’ in trouble worthwhile.”

Struggling to get away, he yanked you further in towards him, then shoved you away, and your other arm straight into a branch jutting out from a tree. It was sharp enough to leave a cut that instantly began to bleed.

Bart just laughed and went to walk around you. He didn’t see the foot you stuck out just enough for him to trip over, sending him face first into a sticker bush.

“You bitch!” he roared and tried to get up to his feet.

You took off through the woods and found your way back to the camp, bursting through the bushes that lived at its perimeter. Conversations stopped as you came through, as all eyes turned to see what caused the commotion.

Ignoring them, you went back to your seat around the fire, and one person away from Negan. Once you sat down, you took a piece of rag from your backpack and used it to clean the blood off your arm. You were too intent on what you were doing to notice Negan swap seats with the person next to you until he spoke up.

“You alright?” he asked, his voice low and smooth.

“Fine. Tripped coming back,” you lied, annoyed that you had to deal with Bart once again.

He leaned forward, got a good look at the arm Bart had squeezed and saw the very clear remnants of a handprint.

“Tree do that to you, too?” His tone dripped with sarcasm, but you continue to wrap your cut.

“Yep,” you replied, even surprising yourself with how short you were being with him.

“Don’t you ever get tired?” he asked with an amused tone.

"Of what?”

“Carrying around that big, goddamned chip on your shoulder?”

“I don’t have a chip on my shoulder. I do what I need to in order to survive.” If you didn’t stay steely against all these incidents, even more of these shitheads would try to take advantage of you.

“Woman, you are exhausting.” Negan smiled, “I’m not gonna lie, I’d like to see that energy put to better use.”

From out of the same brush, Bart stumbled out and tossed a glare your way. When he saw you talking to Negan he quickly averted his eyes and found a place off the main group to sit. You noticed Negan’s eyes following him, then looking back to you for confirmation that Bart was once again at the center of your problems.

“Sure you’re alright?” he asked again, still calm in tone, but his dark eyes were ablaze with trouble.

“Yes si–”

“Negan. You can drop the sir, bullshit. You aren’t an ass kisser like them. I like you, (Y/N) your a ballsy chick. You handle your shit and I appreciate that.”

Unsure of what to say, you just nodded and thanked him. He sat, staring at you, then turned his gaze into the fire for a quiet, contemplative moment. You watched curiously as he suddenly stood up and garnered the entire group’s attention.

“I just wanted to raise one last salute to a job well done. When people can come together, work for a common goal and understand that their own personal needs don’t outweigh the needs of many, it always warms my big fucking heart.”

He moved slowly around the campfire, Lucille resting on his right shoulder as he smiled and praised the group for the haul they were returning home with.

“It just reaffirms what I’ve said from the beginning. We are all Negan. Working towards making the Sanctuary a place of order and safety. Giving to those who work hard, and caring for those workers that make our lives that much easier. The offer of food, shelter… protection, it’s what brings the people in. For the most part, it works. The people I trust the most, work hard for me and that means I have to work fucking hard for them.”

Negan paused and searched the attentive faces in the small crowd. You watched as his eyes flickered from person to person until he landed on Bart.

“Unfortunately, there are some in this that don’t like the fucking rules. They think, in their dipshit brains that they can kiss my ass, then go behind it and do, whatever the FUCK they want.”

A soft murmur began to trickle through the crowd, and Negan paused long enough for it to happen. Something was coming, but you never really could tell with Negan, so it was anyone’s guess what he was about to do.

“Now… before we left on this trip, I had a talk with Bart. Didn’t we, sunshine? We had ourselves a nice fucking chat up in my office and he did just that… kissed my ass then comes here and breaks the rules, again.”

You swallowed thickly, and as if sensing your unease, Negan turned towards you and extended a hand for you to stand up.

“Twice in the last few days, Bart has decided to put his hands on (Y/N) in a manner to which she did not approve of. Did you?”

“N–No. Negan, this isn’t–”

“Shh, shh, just let me finish…” he winked at you and placed an arm around your shoulders, walking you around the campfire towards Bart.

“Bart here told me you were being a tease… said you’d flirt and then when he would make a move, you’d reject him.”

A sudden burst of anger filled you, and you wanted to choke the life out of the drunk.

“But you see, what I think happened is that he forced himself on you, and had you not fought back, would have committed one of the Sanctuary’s biggest sins.”

Bart stood up, his face twisted in anger. “Bullshit! You can’t prove nothin’! I don’t know what she told you but that gash is a liar!”

Negan gently raised up your arm marked with Bart’s handprint, that was already showing hues of a bruise in the shape of his long, gnarled fingers.

“I may not be a fucking expert, but this doesn’t fit your fucking narrative,” Negan purred, taking great delight in the fear that washed over Bart’s face.

“Negan… I–I–she’s lying! I didn’t–I never–”

“Fuck you, asshole!” you yelled, unable to stay indifferent any longer. You thought about all the times he’d made sexual remarks or grabbed you as he walked by, the time he cornered you in the hall or in the garden, and especially just know. You could still feel the heat of his sweaty hand on your chest. “You’re a vile piece of shit who doesn’t understand what no means unless its Simon asking you if you want the ball gag out!”

Negan roared with laughter. “God, DAMN, I like this girl!” Once he stopped laughing, he turned his attention to Bart.

“Bart… I just… I can’t let this shit go anymore. You know Lucille’s rule, no force, no rape and you tried to break it after being warned to stop. So…”

Negan took Lucille from his shoulder and held her out to you. Your eyes went wide with surprise. Negan never let anyone use Lucille; hold her as an intimidation tactic, yes, but actually, use her to hurt someone… only he had that honor.

“Woman to woman,” he smiled big, clearly amusing himself, “Lucille wants to help you manage your shit. Have at him, sweetheart.”

Negan nodded towards Bart, and the two men on either side of him each grabbed a shoulder and shoved him into the middle of the camp to face you.

Taking lives wasn’t something you enjoyed doing, though you had taken more than you cared to remember. With everyone’s eyes on you, and Negan so close, watching every twitch of your muscles, you had to make a choice.

Bart was a cancer to the community. You knew you weren’t the only woman he harassed, and chances are he did force himself on the workers or weaker willed women. Your mind flashed through all the times he’d put his hands on you, or had you cornered in fear. It was what compelled you to reach out for Lucille.

The weight of the wood in your hand felt good. You saw why Negan liked it. You turned to face Bart, he tried to struggle away from the men still holding him.

Good, you thought, struggle against them, I hope they’re squeezing the fuck out of your arm.

Negan leaned close to your ear, so only you could hear him.

“ ** _What’s bothering you_** , sweetheart? Don’t you want to see justice served? Bart broke the rules,” he purred lowly, his voice causing you to clench your fingers against the handle. “Show him how you handle your shit.”

Suddenly, the fear in Bart’s eyes gave way to something darker, less scared and more scary.

“Go ahead, you fucking cunt. Hit me. Take me out in front of all these people. Show them what a badass you are. But you watch, one day it’s gonna be you here, while he taunts someone to do this to–”

You swung, hard, bringing Lucille to hit Bart right between the legs. His light blue jeans instantly staining red with blood as the barbed wire tore at his flesh. No one made a sound except for Bart, who screamed out in pain which gave you a sick sense of satisfaction.

Your breath was heaving, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you cocked the bat back to swing again; this time hitting him in the arm, right where he had grabbed you as he continued to writhe on the ground.

As Bart continued to bleed out in front of you, you turned around to see Negan’s satisfied expression. His grin went from ear to ear as his dark eyes were drinking you in. Even over the unending moans of intense pain from Bart and the growing murmurs from the crowd, you could pick up Negan’s deep, throaty chuckle.

Negan took a few steps closer to you, then slowly cast his eyes down at the bloody mass on the ground.

“Going to finish him, or are you going to make the rest of us suffer having to hear him whining?”

That was when you took notice of everyone watching you again. All the best scouts, Negan’s inner circle and a handful of workers looked on as you decided Bart’s fate.

With one last encouraging wink from Negan, you picked up the bat one more time and raised it over your head. “You should’ve followed the rules, shithead.”

Bringing the bat down with all the force you could muster, Lucille impacted the side of Bart’s head, finally making him quiet. You stepped back from his lifeless body and nearly dropped the bat to the ground. You had the presence of mind to instead turn around and hand it back to Negan, who seemed appreciative of the gesture.

Reclaiming his girl, Negan exhaled deeply and turned back towards the onlookers, who were half scared, half unphased by what just happened.

“And THAT, my good friends, is how we handle our shit here at the Sanctuary.”


End file.
